Sadly, it's taking me forever to type because I messed up my finger at work. I cut it on a wooden box. Lame. Anyway, I'm trying not to be too damn incompetent...
"Hypervigilance is fear in its most complex form."
Full Summary: In the uncertain world of adults, Sora and Riku attempt to patch together their shaky relationship after almost 5 years apart. It's about love and hate and lost trust, set in a world where the magic has run dry and the boys see each for who they really are. The tension doesn't last for long, however, as both men fall into a routine that they both know very well. Along the way, they become reacquainted with the old qualities that brought them together, while familiarizing themselves with the individuals that each person has become.
Warnings: Language, Sex, More infidelity, Violence, Drug Mis-use
Disclaimer: None of the characters within this fanfic belong to me. If it did, this would be a full length movie with all smexy-slashy-yaoiness I could legally fit onto a single DVD. Kingdom Hearts is a lovely invention of Square Enix.
Hypervigilance
Chapter 6: Disorder
-
It was always the darkest point of twilight when Sora woke, gasping, screaming, choking on a substance that he didn't recognize. He awoke clawing at the air, eyes wide and unseeing like a wild animal. It was the first night they shared together in their new apartment when Riku realized the Sora was having horrible nightmares almost every night, of things he couldn't imagine, of things he hadn't experienced himself. Often his own name was on Sora's lips, moaned quietly in desperation, or in anger, terror. Sometimes, Riku would only watch him suffer inside his subconscious, like a dog attempting to run in his own dreams, but usually there was little to gather from his whining and restless struggling. Most times, Riku woke him, held him to his chest and reassured him that he was safe now. That he was home. That he didn't need to fight anymore.
It didn't take long for Riku to realize that Sora was afraid of the dark. If not afraid, at the very least, extremely apprehensive. Thinking back on it now, he figured this was probably the basest form of explanation for the way he acted now. The way he kept pausing in front of the darkened bathroom door like he thought something would jump out once he looked away.
Inexplicably, it reminded him of the time Sora's mom had walked in on them fucking around in the bathroom at the brunet's old house, and Riku was sitting on the edge of the tub, half-heartedly teaching the younger teen how to give him a blowjob. He remembered telling him how to cover his teeth with his lips when his mouth was open, and Sora was making stupid zombie faces while crouched on his knees in between his legs, giggling like a dork. It was probably the first time Tammy ever fathomed that her precious son was actually having sex with another boy. The poor woman wouldn't look him in the eye for weeks.
-
There wasn't much dignified about Riku's recent behavior, he was very well aware of that. Staking out in his car in front of the massage clinic in the early hours of the morning certainly wasn't the creepiest thing he's done in his lifetime but the longer he sat and stared at the same window, the more disturbed he felt. Like seriously, fucking crazy.
It was pushing 7:30 when the red door to the apartment opened, and a man in a suit descended the stone steps. He was too far to see clearly from across the street and he got into his car once he down the stairs, so Riku never got the chance for a closer look. That had to be Evann though. Kairi said he was a lawyer or something, and his car, like Sora's, wasn't exactly the most expensive, but it was new and very clean.
Riku strategically waited until the car was out of the driveway and clear down the street before he exited his own car, moving with a placidity that he wasn't feeling. His heart was turmoil in his chest and he off-handedly imagined himself going into cardiac arrest before he ever reached the other side of the street. Climbing the stairs was having a stroke, and standing before the door was just suicide.
Then there was knocking and waiting for an answer. Of course there was always the option of breaking and entering. Riku entertained the thought for a second longer than he knew he should have, formulating the best way of entry from a quick survey of the side of the house. He imagined the rooms each window was a doorway to, figuring the one at the farthest side of the building was the bedroom, the one beside it, the bathroom. Maybe the one parallel to that was the kitchen.
Of course, he could always just unlock the door himself. A key to open any lock, right?
Riku scowled. Even he didn't find that funny.
Before he realized what he was doing, Riku's hand was the doorknob and the door gave a little, then easily pushed open. For a long moment, he only just stared blankly inside, too confused by his necessary habit of practically barricading his door back at his own home, that he couldn't even fathom someone just leaving it unlocked when their loved one was home by themselves. But he had to remember he was in a totally different neighborhood. People probably didn't get assaulted in laundry rooms where Sora lived.
The living room was quiet and empty, full of simple clean furniture with a neutral color scheme, Riku noticed, kind of like a page from a design magazine. The second thing he noticed was the smell, soil, plants, some type of incense. He recognized the scent on Sora a while back, this must've been where it came from.
Over all, it was a very upscale place, no concrete walls or floors, instead a light beige paint and oak hardwood. Moving closer, Riku saw that it wasn't actually paint on the walls, but a fabric wall treatment. He thought that was strangely eccentric, what he really expected from Sora's apartment, not just a bunch normal-looking furniture.
Riku looked at the many pictures hung above the tiny gas fireplace, a couple from Sora's childhood, him and his mom, Sora and Kairi. There was a one of Charlot, Sora's goddaughter, Quint and Kairi together. An old picture of Sora's father that died before he was born. More of the kids from the island, friends Riku wondered if Sora still talked to. Riku wasn't surprised to see that he wasn't up there himself, even though he knew he was a huge part of Sora's life, even more than a majority of the people up there.
On the other half of the mantle, people Riku didn't recognize, all smiling like the pictures from Sora's side. Evann's friends and family. Riku bitterly tried to pick him out amongst the brothers and sisters, the parents, the grandparents. No wedding picture, he noticed. Just one of two people in regular clothes, Sora embracing a handsome blond-haired, blue-eyed stranger.
Riku jumped, feeling a hard cold edge of something distinctly metal against the side of his neck. By the way it was angled, it was obvious someone shorter was holding it.
"Sora." Now that he was aware of the other presence in the room, Riku could hear their soft breathing, strangely enough, feeling a tiny shiver of exhilaration at being caught.
Sora was less than happy to see him there, that much was obvious, his bright eyes colder and sharper than the kitchen knife he was brandishing at Riku's throat. Clearly he had just gotten out the shower, his slender waist wrapped in a gold towel and his damp hair steadily dripping water on the hardwood floor.
"Sora?" Riku repeated, a bit apprehensive when Sora wasn't lowering the knife, only pressing harder when he spoke. There didn't seem to be any recognition in his eyes, just fear masked behind defensive anger. "Sora." He spoke with more force like one would if they were trying to wake someone in a deep sleep. At this point, Riku makes the mistake of trying to take the knife from him, but Sora moves faster than he remembered and quickly slices his hand. He then turns slightly, now on the defensive, as if expecting retaliation.
"Sora, it's just me. Riku." He fights to keep the tiny amount of panic from his voice, but Sora doesn't seem to understand a word he's saying.
Riku covers his injured hand with his other, and watches Sora watching him. They're both waiting, for the other to move, for the enemy to strike. To kill or be killed.
You can say whatever the hell you like about the outcome of the bullshit they went through, the balance being restored to the worlds or whatever, but this was the real result of taking a 14-year-old kid from his home and forcing him to become some "magical warrior".
Sora's eyes flicker between Riku's face and his hand, and he seems to make some kind of coherent connection in his head, that ghosts and remnants don't bleed.
"Riku, you're bleeding." Sora's voice was strangely calm, his eyes no longer narrowed and suspicious.
Riku knew on some psychotic level that it wasn't really his fault, because Riku had had several of these out-of-body crazy moments himself, where he was back in the darkness, fighting faceless monsters, but he had given Sora plenty of time to realize who he was. "Are you fucking serious?"
Sora was busy inspecting the knife in his hand, turning it over twice, his eyebrows pulled in tight in the middle. There was a helplessness there on his face that Riku recognized, and he guiltily wished he hadn't yelled at him.
"Sora..."
Instead of apologizing, or even acknowledging the fact that he had just attacked him, Sora frowned, holding the knife loosely, as if he had just been chopping vegetables and simply stared at him. "What are doing here?"
Riku couldn't think of the answer he rehearsed while sitting out in the car, instead just standing there dumbly, feeling like a bit of a stalker now that he had no plausible excuse. Sora arched a cinnamon colored eyebrow expectantly, rolling his eyes impatiently when Riku only shifted his weight to his other foot.
"Whatever." Sora gripped his towel as it began to slip, turning away, hopefully to return his knife to the kitchen. As he was leaving, Riku caught a glimpse of colorful markings on his back, a trail of rainbow colored stars that lined his spine in descending size, the red star being the largest and the purple the smallest ending just above the gold towel. Yet another thing Riku had no idea about.
Sora returned, minutes later, wearing baggy jeans and a faded t-shirt with the words "I'm not gay, but my husband is." printed in fat pink letters across the chest, carrying a little home first-aid kit.
"Sit."
Riku uncovered his hand, careful not to get any blood on the couch, eyeing his clothes with a smirk. "Nice shirt."
Sora smiled faintly while cleaning the drying blood around the wound. "Kairi's idea of wedding present."
Of course. Riku chuckled, barely even noticing the sting of the alcohol burning his hand. He watched Sora treating him, how gently he held the cotton wipe in his fingers, how he bit his tongue between his teeth while he worked.
"Would you have married me?" Riku said before he could stop himself, blurting out the words before he had even finished the thought. Sora's hand hesitated for a second, his breath audibly pausing in his chest. It was the first time Riku noticed his ring, two silver bands with one gold band in between. He hadn't been wearing it before, the week he spent at Riku's apartment.
"It's pretty shallow, I don't think you'll need stitches." Sora said flatly, proceeding to wrap the wound a little too tightly. His hands were trembling by the time he finished; it wasn't exactly unnoticeable.
"Don't ignore me, Sora."
"I don't know. Maybe?" He said it as a question. Fuck. That nearly killed Riku.
"You're asking me?"
"I- God, I don't know! You never asked. I didn't even you think you liked me that much." Sora shrugged.
"Are you fucking kidding me? I loved you. Love. You." Riku quickly corrected himself, to Sora's surprise. That didn't keep the look of immense irritation from his face though. "Look, I was eighteen. I was an immature kid, I didn't want to get married."
"So, what? You're saying you want to marry me now?"
Riku resisted the urge to glare, but the question bothered him so much, as it should have. Of course he wanted to marry Sora. Right? Isn't that what he ultimately wanted? Isn't that why he wanted to live with Sora, so he could eventually make an honest husband out of him?
"Yes."
Sora rolled his eyes, rising from the couch. "You really think that's gonna change anything?" He crossed his arms over his chest, incensed. "Forget it. It's too late, Riku."
"Yeah, I know." Riku wasn't pissed about it, honestly. To others, this would appear to be a dismal situation, but to Riku, right now—and he must've been having a good day and in the most terrific mood of his life—it seemed like a great opportunity. As corny as it sounded, there was some good in this. "I can do it. Change your mind, I mean."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sora was taken aback by his sudden change in mood, taking a half-step backwards as Riku approached him, looking like he just figured out how to rig the lottery or something.
"I know how to make you mine, Sora." Riku unabashedly declared, a rare genuine smile gracing his lips for the first time in years.
Sora scowled in barely concealed disgust, shaking his head. "You're insane." Though he couldn't hide that he was strangely intrigued in the suddenly optimistic mood of his. Reminded Sora of old times, when Riku was still an aspiring artist, just starting to find his place in an adult world.
Riku reintroduced his body to Sora's in a few seconds, matching the deadly speed the brunet exhibited earlier during their little conflict. He pressed Sora to the fabric-treated wall with his weight and superior height, nipping playfully at his jaw. He smirked when Sora turned his head away, inadvertently giving him more skin to play with. "I love it when you resist me." Riku's voice was a low snarl, so sexy it was almost tangible.
"You've got the hormones of a teenager." Sora hissed back, trying to control the tremble in his stomach, the more noticeable tremble returning to his hands.
Riku's kisses were open-mouthed and arrogant, solely to get a reaction out of Sora. He tasted the corners and sharp lines of Sora's jaw, frequently ghosting over lips that refused to cooperate. He bared his soul through each breath he took, hoping Sora would take the bait. "Please," Riku muttered quietly, losing a little of his arrogance. There would be many opportunities to gain it back.
After that, Sora finally decided to play the game, giving Riku a clearer sense of what he expected from him. Seems Sora had an arrogance of his own. This was more than seduction, it was a mixture of dominance, of ownership. My Sora, His Riku.
Sora controlled everything, easily claiming the upper hand. He strategically pulled back until Riku gave in and let him take the first kiss. Riku honestly didn't mind submitting, he loved the feel of fingers tangling and pulling in his hair, loved how Sora watched him through half-open eyes, burying his tongue deep in his mouth. A sharp commanding tug to his fisted hair, and Riku willingly laid his head back, letting out a soft, breathy moan as Sora licked and teased the skin of his throat.
"What'd I do?" Riku spoke to the ceiling, seconds after, wishing his voice was too quiet to hear. The question was stinging inside his mind for hours, but now that he was finally asking, he found he really didn't want to know after all. If he had hurt Sora that badly...well, perhaps it's best to remain ignorant.
Sora hardly faltered at his words, idly combing his fingers through his silver hair. Riku wasn't sure what kind of reaction to expect, especially from the phone conversation they had the other day. He had gotten so emotional, he was practically sobbing, now, he didn't know. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to predict Sora's moods that seemed to grow more erratic with every new occurrence. The past was still a touchy subject, that much was obvious.
"It's not important." Sora untangled his long fingers from silver silk. It was aggravating how his most nonchalant brush-offs made Riku feel young and naïve, like Sora was the older of the two, and Riku knew nothing.
Sora fell into a crouch, his hands pushing up the bottom of Riku's shirt to make his belt buckle more available for his deft fingers to unfasten. Riku stepped back, out of his reach.
"It is important, Sora."
A look of indignation crossed Sora's face, reminding Riku of the dark version of himself that he had encountered days after Sora decided to come back into his life. It made him wonder if Sora had ever forgiven him at all.
He sat back on his heels, his hands on his hips. Impatient. "I think that's for me to decide." He declared, playing on Riku's guilt again, to get what he wanted. "Seeing as it was your fault. Your mistake."
"You keep doing what I want, maybe I'll tell you." Sora smiled crookedly, a hollow little smirk. He was doing this on purpose, to keep Riku confused. His eyes were so innocent, the man he'd become was anything but.
"What the hell happened to you?" Riku watched as Sora rose for the floor. He only backed away an inch before Sora's hands were on him again, leading him toward the couch until he was sitting on the arm. He crouched once again, taking his belt in his fingers, swiftly unbuckling it and parting the front of his pants with the same speed.
"I don't mind pain. So if you want to pull my hair, you can."
Riku's lip curled in mild disgust, half-intrigue. This side of Sora was a little wilder than he was used to, but to play a game like this one, one that apparently started years ago, the ability to adapt was crucial.
The vision of the two teenagers in the bathroom materialized in Riku's mind like an old fantasy, except Sora wasn't making stupid faces and joking around. Instead, his face was almost comically determined as he released Riku's cock from his pants, stroking him with a slow, tight grip. It became increasingly important to Riku to keep his eyes open to watch every movement. He bit his tongue and arched slightly off the couch as Sora worked to make him adequately hard.
Sora apparently took little notice of his overeager squirming, licking his hand for more lubrication before fisting him again. Riku made the quietest sound of exhilaration, his eyes rolling at little at the friction, Sora's close proximity, the way he tongued the corner of his mouth.
Already sufficiently aroused before they started, it didn't take long for Riku to become fully hard, growing completely in length and girth. Sora tasted his tip, tonguing the delicate skin thoroughly before taking him in his mouth. Riku groaned while he took a second to get used to his size, fighting to keep himself from seeming too—too, whatever. There was a mouth around his cock and he couldn't care less how he acted.
"Ah...fuck, God, Sora."
It wasn't until Riku slipped his fingers through Sora's hair, cradling his palm over the back of his head that he actually started to feel a weird sort of relief. Mainly, he felt disgust at himself for letting his willpower submit so easily. For letting himself get into a situation he could no longer control. Sora called the shots in this domain, and once again, Riku was too weak to overcome.
Sora changed his tempo, sucking harder and deeper, using his tongue for more stimulation. He braced his elbows on Riku's thighs, creating such an intense suction, Riku let a low, shallow gasp escape his slightly agape lips. Both hands were buried in auburn hair now, his hips snapping upwards carelessly. He nearly forgot Sora was there, or at least, that he was Sora.
Sora's throat contracted as he fought back his gag reflex. Sitting back on his heels again, his eyebrow raised in irritation as he tongued the roof of his mouth. "Sorry..." Riku muttered, shame making his voice soft, lust and desperation making him plead.
Rising to his feet rather than continuing, Riku was sure that Sora was going to make him finish on his own. A moment of weakness had Riku reaching for the brunet, his prick already becoming painfully uncomfortable from negligence. He got an arm around Sora's slender waist, coaxing him forward until he could gently kiss his mouth. The softness made Sora smile, a good sign, returning the gesture, a small playful bite to his lower lip. His hands were on either of Riku's shoulders, leading him again. He guided Riku to lay back on the couch cushions, his dick still hard and laying heavily against his stomach.
Sora crawled on top of him, though Riku found it strange that he was facing the other direction. He took his erection in his mouth again, and Riku nearly sighed in relief as a little of the annoying pressure began to ebb away. It wasn't until Sora reached a hand between them and unfastened his jeans did Riku realize what his intention was.
Spreading the thick fabric, Riku hooked his thumbs in the top of his underwear, pulling both down to mid-thigh. Sora was already extensively aroused. Riku wondered if it was the open air and his being exposed that was making him gradually harder, or the fact that he knew that Riku was staring at him from such an intimate angle that sent that visible shiver of exhilaration up his spine. Craning his neck, he licked the heavy heat, hearing a quiet moan from the other end of the couch. He held Sora's hips still and lifted his head again, taking as much of the stiff flesh in his mouth as he could from the position he was in.
This kind of stimulation was a little overwhelming. Riku found it slightly difficult to concentrate when Sora was already sucking him so thoroughly on his end. He couldn't help but notice how his own performance affected Sora's. When he gripped Sora thighs for leverage and took him nearly all the way in to the back of his throat, Sora paused for a half-second, his fingernails clawing into Riku's legs.
Riku took his time, doing his best to ignore the urgency burning in his own core. He drew out his movements, everything slow and lingering and passionate. Sora was a little less than patient, and it showed in the way he fisted the base of Riku's shaft, working him faster and with more stimulation than his mouth alone could provide. He was trying to hurry him up for whatever reason, so Riku took the subtle clue and reached up, between Sora's parted legs, massaging the firm balls. If the soft sounds of pleasure he was making were any indication, he approved, jerking eagerly in his hand.
It was good, but didn't last long, and Riku had a feeling that Sora really just wanted a quick way to finish and get off of him, as he did as soon as he came. Now standing, he pulled his pants up, grabbing a cup off the coffee table and spitting a thick liquid into it. He actually frowned at it before offering the cup to Riku, who chuckled and did the same.
It was romantic, you know, in a completely gross way.
Riku adjusted himself, tucking everything back into order and zipping his pants. "I think I've figured out what's wrong with you." He sat up, combing his hair flat with his fingers.
Sora said nothing, absently swirling the contents of the glass. It was a long second before he realized what he was doing, his expression comically mortified.
"Really," He said finally after putting the cup down, his voice uninterested.
Riku shrugged. "I'm not really a psychiatrist, but yeah."
rsrsrsrs
"There's nothing wrong with my love life." Sora declared, finding a more comfortable position against the multiple pillows they had piled on the bed. "Evann and I have sex."
"I'm happy for you." Riku commented dryly. He hadn't felt quite as strange lying in the married couple's bed until he mentioned that, and now, he was picturing things he didn't exactly want to while resting right in the middle of the hot spot for their sexual activity.
The bedroom was actually more of a loft that overlooked the living room, with the entrance concealed from the front. The only way up there was a small staircase in the kitchen.
The décor of the bedroom was what Riku expected the rest of apartment to look like. If he had to guess, it was pretty obvious that Sora's husband had decorated everything else. This room was all Sora though. The walls were painted a sunny orange, lemon yellow and lime green the main color for the furniture and the covering on the bed.
The color wasn't the first thing Riku noticed about the room though, not when the wall the bed rested against was tacked with nine 5x5 panels, each painted to create one huge 15 foot image. The image being of a certain brunet that was idly chatting about his relationship with his nobody husband. The bottom right corner was scrawled with a quick signature Riku recognized as his own.
According to Sora, Mr. Nobody Fairbanks was a pretty big fan of his work and bought this painting long before they even met. Now it was just Riku's creepy obsession hanging on the wall of their bedroom. Made infinitesimally creepier by coincidence.
"I think I made a mistake. Getting married." Sora said, pulling up the front of his shirt, poking at his always flat stomach. He did a few small sit-ups, watching how the muscle of his abdomen tightened with his movements. Meanwhile, the giant painted Sora above the bed watched them, its carefree smile more judging and cynical.
Riku decided not to consider the wide array of mood swings they had gone through that morning and just listen to him bitch. It was a lot easier than fighting. Slightly less tiring than sex. Not as fun though.
"Evann was the first man I dated after you."
"When did you get married?" Riku didn't know why he was asking, he didn't want to know. To progress the conversation, he guessed. He needed something more than silence. It was either that or fall asleep.
"April 18. Three years ago." Sora rolled over on his stomach, folding his arms under his chin. "I didn't really wanna marry him, at first. Then, eventually, I convinced myself that he was the best I'd ever get."
Riku made a face, pinching the bottom of Sora's shirt in his two fingers, pulling it up to see the tattoo underneath that he nearly forgot about. "Why the hell would you think a thing like that?" If anything, anyone would be lucky to have Sora.
Riku thumbed the colorful pictures along Sora's spine, now able to see that in between each pair of stars was a curved black letter, spelling the word "PRIDE". A gay pride tattoo. It was oddly charming how much it represented Sora's personality.
Sora glanced at him over his shoulder, squinting as the sunlight filtering in through the cracked blinds hit his eyes. "Apparently no one told you how fucked up I am. Was." He corrected himself, almost reluctantly like he didn't really believe he had improved.
"Kairi mentioned it. That bad?" Riku almost kept the last question to himself. Sora's silence afterwards told him that he probably should've.
Sora grabbed his hand, the one that was still idly tracing his tattoos, and looped it over his body so he could shelter himself under his chest. "Do you ever...see things?"
Riku tightened his arm around Sora's body for security, asking, "What kind of things, Sora?" He knew the answer before he said it, before Riku even asked the question.
"Monsters."
With that one word, Riku suddenly felt very small and Sora even smaller, shrinking more and more in his embrace. The only thing he could do was hold him close and lie like hell. Sora was scared, Riku could hear the way his voice shook when he answered. It was an unreasonable fear, but he knew the feeling himself very well.
"No. I've never seen anything, Sora." Riku said this with finality, making it very clear that this particular subject was one he didn't want to talk about. Things like monsters and darkness were best forgotten.
Sora nodded needlessly, and ducked his head under Riku's arm, the shadow hiding his face from view. They lay in silence for a few long minutes, and Riku felt the urge to fall asleep return. He internally wished Sora would start talking again, that way he wouldn't have to maintain the conversation himself. Riku was much better at listening.
"What about you?" Sora asked, keeping himself hidden in the darkness of their embrace. "You're not seeing anyone right now?"
"You."
"I don't count." He said, teasingly. His voice had a bit of a drifting quality to it, and moving his arm slightly to the side, Riku saw that his eyes were closed. Both of them trying to keep the other awake. Funny.
"The first time I've gotten laid in three months. You count."
Sora opened his eyes at this. If only to stare at him incredulously. "Seriously?" His eyebrows were too high for Riku's liking. It wasn't that surprising. "I know you can be a little prickish sometimes, but I thought guys liked that. It's a very endearing quality."
Riku snorted. "To who? No, seriously, I'm missing out on a lot of sex here."
Sora laughed, resuming his more comfortable position under him. "I've always thought you were very sexy."
"Yeah, well," Riku sighed, petting back his cinnamon colored hair and nuzzling softly into his neck. "Too bad there aren't more of you to go around, huh?" His voice lowered, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted Sora to hear him or not. "Then I could have you all to myself."
Sora opened his eyes again, this time not incredulous but stern. "I love my husband." His tone was way too serious, almost defensive. Like any of his prior behavior was suddenly acceptable because of those four words.
"Then what are you doing, Sora?" He didn't need to remind him that he chose to come crawling back to his apartment a few weeks ago. That he was the one tempting Riku into this twisted relationship, knowing the true repercussions of his own actions. Riku had no fault here. "Shit, I feel we keep saying the same fucking things, and every time, you never give me a straight fucking answer."
"Whatever my reason is, you wouldn't want to hear it." Sora mumbled, groaning when Riku moved his arm so he couldn't hide anymore, the sudden exposure to sunlight stinging his eyes.
"Try me."
"I'm bored." Sora's quick answer wasn't exactly what he expected, but hell, it was an answer.
"That's it?"
Sora shrugged. "What else am I supposed to say? I'm not being neglected or abused. I'm just bored."
"So what, your life is just so perfect, you needed shit like me to fuck it up? That's real nice, Sora." Riku fought the urge to laugh. This was fucking priceless. Sora really was fucking using him, not that he didn't already know that, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.
"Oh, don't make everything about you." Sora snapped. Oh, that's right, Sora. You're the main character here. I'm just best supporting actor.
He finally gave up on going back to sleep, combing his hair restlessly with his hands. "I'm a fucking housewife." At this point, Sora is talking to himself, and Riku can't figure out whether he should interrupt or not. "Sure, I own the clinic downstairs, but he paid for the apartment, and my ring, and my fucking car."
Should have thought of that, Sora. Riku wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to.
"What am I supposed to tell him?" Once again, Riku's not sure if he's being asked this question directly, and has even less of a clue how to answer it if he is.
"The truth usually works. That's where I'd start."
Sora scoffs. "The truth. I'd rather he remain my blissfully unaware husband."
"I guess that's your choice." Riku sat up, gathering the shoes he took off at the end of the bed earlier and pulling them back on.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm done." Riku stood, trying to remember if he was wearing a jacket when he came in. He didn't want to have to risk coming back later.
"You can't leave now." Sora's voice was annoyingly chastising for someone in his compromising situation. "It's after 12. Evann usually comes home during his lunch hour. I can't risk him seeing you."
"So? I'm already pretty close to resenting you. What's keeping me from blowing this shit off the mountain right now?"
"Despite the fact that you are a careless jackass, I'd still like to think you at least give half a shit about what happens to me." Sora turned to him, his eyes more serious than Riku had ever seen them before. "I have everything to lose here."
"Not my problem." Riku moved to step around him only for Sora to predictably step in his way. How childish.
"Just stay here, okay? I'll be right back. Just...stay." As Sora opened the door, Riku could faintly hear someone yelling for him.
"What? No- Sora!" Too late. What words Riku really wanted to say fell on the dead silence of the too-warm bedroom, the only reply from a rattling vent as the air conditioner clicked on.
….....
Riku got back to his car an hour later. Pissed off, he drove straight home, a drive that usually took 28 minutes was shortened to nearly 15 with the way he was speeding.
He hung his last canvas on the wall, his last unfinished painting before the gallery opening in a week and attempted to get some work done. His anger making his hands tremble, every line was shaky and turbulent. His circles were sloppy, the colors blended messily. Too thick paint hung in globs off the ends of the canvas. His brush was flattened and frayed with the effort and strength of his strokes.
It was his best and worst work.
Best, because he knew he'd never be able to recreate anything like this again, and nothing he had ever made had taken this much emotion out him. It was the realest thing he ever painted, a piece of work artists spend their whole lives trying to conceive. It was the kind of art that icons were made from. The kind of art that made people famous.
Worst, because he couldn't even look at it. Worst, because it was every drop of alcohol he had ever drank. It was every night he had spent in a fucking bar rather than at home, it was every breath of cigarette smoke he had inhaled in someone's crowded basement party. It was every time he drunkenly sucked off a stranger in the bathroom of a club, knowing that Sora was waiting for him at their apartment. This painting was every time Sora went to bed alone. It represented all of his flaws.
So he destroyed it.
…....
Riku didn't know what the hell it was about that 45-minute time span he spent in Sora's bedroom, trying not to notice the soft talking from downstairs in the kitchen, but by the time Evann had left and Sora was coming back up the stairs, the most disturbing images had already passed through his mind. Like having a nightmare while you're awake.
When Sora came back upstairs, Riku must've looked pretty shaken because he stopped in mid-step and just stared at him, his eyes dark and unblinking. All Riku seemed to be able to remember about that moment was that he was looking at his own hands for an extended amount of time before finally saying something.
"Have you ever attacked him before?" Riku looked up slowly from the too-tight bandage on his hand, his reminder of how "fucked up" Sora was.
Sora regarded him with caution, frowning as if he were unsure how to answer, or if he should at all. He kept his arms close to himself, defensive. Pretty typical behavior so far. Considering the psychological reasons he had that made him act that way. The fear in his eyes was the real selling point, the fear mixed with deep apprehension.
"It's only me." Riku finally summarized when all he got was timid silence.
"You've probably never pulled a knife on Kairi, or your mom," He rose from the bed, holding his bandaged hand in the other. "Just me."
The giant Sora painting watching, the real Sora took a half-step backwards, freezing like he didn't know what to do. Whether to run or stand his ground.
"I'm the only one you see as a threat." Riku now standing directly in front of him, Sora kept his fist clasped at his chest, his head turned at an angle as if he were avoiding his eyes. "Because I..."
It felt like a repeat of the other night, Riku speaking to him on the other end of a phone. Sora was getting emotional and there was something he needed to say but he couldn't think of what it was. He couldn't form the right words, even though Sora was urging him with his wet looking eyes.
He was piecing it together though, with the images he had come across only moments before. The blood on his sheets, the empty bed the next morning. He imagined himself from his own point of view, saw his own hands on Sora's body, but it was through the haze of alcohol, making it difficult to decipher.
"Did I...?" Riku started, attempting to revise his approach, finding that it didn't make it any easier. Sora was sheltering that one hand to his chest, his other forming a tight grip around his wrist. The wrist Riku saw his own hand on, crushing, and snapping bone.
"Say it...Please." Sora begged him. He needed this. The admittance. Was that what he had been holding on to this entire time?
Because Sora left him in the middle of the night, they never got the chance to talk about it. Riku never got the chance to apologize.
"I'm...sorry." Riku croaked, the words coming out of his mouth like glass shards. Sora scowled, grabbing his face, making him look uncomfortably in his eyes.
"No. For what?" He nearly snarled. He really needed Riku to admit it. Admit that he had...hurt him. "You can't get off easy this time. Tell me. Say it."
"I raped you."
Despite the earlier strength in his words, Sora flinched and recoiled, curling his hand at his chest again. He turned his back, wrapping his arms around himself. There wasn't much left to say after that.
…......
Riku savagely stabbed the canvas, tearing into it until the brush snapped and the sharp splintered pieces were cutting into his fingers. Until paint wasn't the only thing covering his hands. He stabbed until blood ran down his knuckles and dripped on the cement floor.
He ripped the torn canvas straight from the wall and threw it, breaking up the wooden frame with his bare hands and attempting to punch it into nothing.
Four punches in, he barely felt the pain anymore. Five and six, he felt his fingers give. By ten, he was slumped on the floor, gasping through sobs that nearly tore his chest open.
"Do you ever...see things?"
"What kind of things, Sora?"
"Monsters."
Monsters. He was the only fucking monster Sora saw.
rsrsrsrsrs
"I need an extension." Riku didn't bother to look at the woman's face. He knew her sculpted eyebrows were nearly hidden in her hairline. Her heart practically stopped.
"Excuse me?" Sienna was still seated behind her desk. Riku was hoping she wouldn't stand up; it wasn't as humiliating to ask with her across the room.
Playing with the silk leaves of a fake ficus, he watched the cars passing on the street six floors below. Helped his anxiety when his hands were busy. "On the opening. I need an extension."
"Why?" Sienna nearly snapped, her voice strained. You could tell she wasn't trying to be bitchy, but whenever Sienna had to change her schedule a week before a gallery opening, she didn't have much of a choice. Riku really didn't blame her.
"I just...need the time." Time from Sora is what he meant. Not that he still expected him to show at the opening now, but he couldn't take that chance, and a week was too soon. The wound still too fresh.
"Well, baby, I don't know what I can do. You honestly think I can move an entire opening in six days?" She spoke, moving a few things on her desk, mostly stacks of documents and a few pictures of what Riku recognized as his own paintings. "I'm not God."
Riku would've rolled his eyes at her ludicrous statement if he wasn't looking for sympathy at the moment. Instead, he made his best impression of despair, something that wasn't that difficult considering how he felt already.
He tensed as Sienna rose from her chair, her heels forever clicking as she rounded the desk. Today, the color was lilac, her dress and nails. Her heels were a light purple with dark purple bows on the top. Her hair was still a golden walnut, piled high on her head. "How much?"
Riku must've looked confused because the blonde bombshell dug her manicured nails into her hips. "Time, Rikki. How much time do you need? A day, two days?"
"I was thinking, more like, a month."
"No." Her reply was instant, her tone leaving little room for objection. If Riku hadn't known the woman as his malevolent manager for nearly six years, he'd be a little surprised. She pursed her lips, standing in a way that pushed her chest out. "I can give you a week. But only if you behave." Sienna winked, standing about a foot too close.
"So, what the hell happened to your hand?"
Riku was hoping she wouldn't notice, but he had to give her credit for being observational. She could tell even though he made sure his hand was his pocket the whole time.
After his little freak out episode, and a long trip to the hospital, meeting with a hand specialist and receiving two splints, Riku was definitely regretting trying to punch a hole through solid concrete.
"Accident." He replied simply, sighing when the woman insisted on looking at it.
"Poor boy," She purred, stroking the two temporary splints with her long nails. "So which one of your boyfriends did you screw over this time?" She looked up. "That one boy. What was his name? Andrew?"
"Anderson. We broke up two years ago." Riku went through the motions of idle conversation, wanting nothing more than to leave now that he had gotten the extension he wanted. Well, not exactly the extension he wanted, but it was more time nevertheless.
"Right. How's he doing?"
"I don't know." Riku sighed, thinking of the amount of time he was wasting right now, he could be using to barricade himself in his bathroom for a week.
"You need to watch that temper of yours. You're starting to gain a reputation. For being, well, volatile." Sienna finally clicked away from his personal space, back to her desk. Giving him a long hard stare, she sat, folding her hands in her lap. "You don't want to jeopardize your career over a boy. Believe me."
Riku only clenched his jaw painfully, feeling his hand throb in his pocket. As he was leaving, he took a couple of the painkillers for his broken fingers. Then two more once he got to his car, and another on the drive home.
By the time he unlocked his front door and stumbled all the way to the bathroom, he wasn't feeling much of anything anymore.
rsrsrsrs
Yay! Finally! I'm done with another chapter. I tried to make it longer and extra drama-y. Just 'cause.
Working on Chap 7. I tried to fix the story pacing at little bit in this chapter, I thought it was a little wacked. Also, I felt the need to describe some more Riku's artistry skills. Anyway, more Sienna. More angst. More Riku moping. Lot more of that. See ya next time! - bouncy